


I See No Downside

by Lady In A Tux (CollateralDamage666)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Childbirth, Fluff and Angst, JohnlockChallenges Exchange, M/M, Parentlock, Tumblr: johnlockchallenges, johnlockchallenges, vday exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollateralDamage666/pseuds/Lady%20In%20A%20Tux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt: “older!lock in the hospital getting their baby”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I See No Downside

**Author's Note:**

> Having never experienced childbirth except in movies and horrible sex ed classes, I had to do some research for this.
> 
> Another thing I learned is that it's not a good idea to try and write while watching American Horror Story because that's not a forgiving show. You look away, you're probably going to miss something. So I would find myself having not written another word after having gone through two episodes. Not good and never again. I'll just stick to writing while watching Chopped.
> 
> Anyway, I hope this is what you wanted with that prompt! Enjoy!
> 
> As always, not betaed or britpicked.

It had taken them almost ten years to reach this moment.  Ten years that included faked deaths, confused emotions, and one drunk night in bed to get them here.  And John wasn’t going to have any more of Sherlock’s whining.  He had already heard enough of it throughout their lifetime, but over the past two year, it had seemed to increase tenfold.  “No, we can’t be having her be the surrogate.  She’ll give the child her habits, I know it.”  “Oh, but we shouldn’t buy that brand.  It isn’t as good as this one.”  “Don’t be so daft, John, obviously the cot has to be put here.”  “Why don’t you ever like what I buy?  It’s just a pirate hat, he’ll grow into it.”  And now, as John stood there, one hand in Sherlock’s, his other being squeezed to death by the woman, Olivia, currently giving birth to their child, he was about ready to punch Sherlock if he asked how much longer it would take before the baby was born.  It was as if he was some child on a road trip asking if they were there yet every five minutes.

He saw Sherlock’s mouth open once more and readied himself to kick him in the shins when the doctor said, “She’s crowning!”  The nurse to the side murmured softly to Olivia and he felt her grip on his hand relax as he lay back, taking steady breaths.  Now, Sherlock’s hand was the one gripping tightly as he watched, an expression on his face John couldn’t quite read even after knowing him for so long.  It was a new expression.  But then his attention was back on the child, their child, being born, its lungs clearing as it let out its first cries, tiny hands clenched into fists as it screamed at the world.  Olivia let go of his hand then, looking away.  John knew how hard it must be for her, to be a surrogate mother like this, but to only give birth to the child, then try to move on.  She had told them when they had started all this that she didn’t want that much contact with the child after birth, hadn’t even wanted to know its sex. 

Everything seemed to run together after that, both he and Sherlock moving forward to cut the umbilical cord then watching the washing, the weighing.   And then John seemed to merely blink and they were sitting in another room, holding their son.  Their son.  John gently held the sleeping baby in his hands as though he was scared he would break him.  They were alone, Olivia left in her room to sleep and relax and John knew that they would lose contact with her, that she would be consumed by London once more, but he would respect that.  Gently, he ran a finger over the baby’s cheek, watching him twitch at the touch.  Next to him, Sherlock shifted, trying to get a better look at their son.  The baby opened up its eyes, staring up at the sleepy before yawning, little limbs trembling.

“He looks like you,” John murmured, “Has your eyes and hair.”

“Well, I was the donor,” Sherlock rested his chin on John’s shoulder, “But children are born with light eyes and their true color doesn’t really fully develop until they’re about a year old due to melanin.  The hair as well.  Just because it’s dark and curly doesn’t mean it’s going to be like that.  They usually lose their hair and the hair that grows in next will be the-“

“Sherlock?”  John interrupted and Sherlock stopped.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Yes.”

Sherlock’s arms pulled John closer, the armrests of the chairs digging into their sides, but they hardly noticed as Sherlock shifted to get a more comfortable spot to rest his head on John’s shoulder.

* * *

 

“No, no!  It’s all wrong!  Who decided to put the cot against this wall?”  Sherlock muttered, staring at the nursery room.

“That would be you,” John chuckled, currently feeding Hamish with a warmed up bottle of formula.

Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it and simply started moving the cot to the more ‘appropriate’ position, “Well obviously I didn’t mean it!  Of course the cot should have been over here from the beginning.  It opens up the room more and gives us better access to the cot to play with him or-“

“Why are you a consulting detective?”  John asked.

Sherlock stopped, looking over at him, “What?  Why are you asking that?”

“Because, if you’d listen to yourself, I think you should have gone after the first ever ‘consulting interior decorator’, huh?  Just don’t let them see the state of the flat downstairs, though.  They might have second thoughts when they see Cluedo stabbed onto the wall.”

“Oh, shhh,” Sherlock pushed the cot against the wall, then stood back to look over the room before going back to John and putting an arm around his waist and dropping a kiss onto his head, “There.  Perfect.”

“Until you decide to move the cot to the other side.”

John just smirked as Sherlock huffed with indignation.

* * *

 

He awoke to a cold bed at two AM and rolled over to make sure Sherlock just wasn’t sitting in the chair with Hamish, but he wasn’t there and Hamish’s cries hadn’t woken him up, so that hadn’t been why Sherlock had left.  John sat up with a yawn and rubbed at his eyes before getting up to investigate where his husband had gone off to.  Years ago, John wouldn’t have even bothered getting up if he woke up alone in the middle of the night, knowing Sherlock was off doing some experiment in the kitchen that John knew he wanted no part of at that time of night.  But, as their time as a couple progressed, the more time Sherlock spent in bed, deciding that his time with John, seeping up his warmth, was better and more important than any experiment he could come up with.  So to wake up alone without a crying child for them to tend to was a little more than strange.  John padded softly up the stairs to his old bedroom, letting out a soft sigh as he recognized Sherlock looming over the cot, low lighting from the lamp making his cheekbones stand out ever more than usual.

“Sherlock?  Come back to bed.  You don’t want to wake him up,” he moved up behind him, placing a hand on his elbow.

“What if he turns out like me?”

“Huh?”  John asked, rubbing at his eyes again and wondering if he misheard.

“Like me.  What if he turns out like me?”

“Then good,” John shrugged, giving his arm a tug.

“Good?  The- the teasing?  Taunting?  Loneliness?  Drugs?”

“Sherlock,” he finally got his husband to turn a bit, looking at him, “He’s not going to follow your life story exactly.  Besides, there’s a difference between his upbringing and yours.”

“And what is that?”

“Me.”

Sherlock frowned, looking at him, “What do you mean by that?  What exactly does that change?”

“Well look what I’ve done to you,” John pressed closed to Sherlock, smiling up at him, “And I’ve had loads of practice with difficult geniuses now, thanks to you acting like a five year old more than an adult.  He’ll be nothing compared to you and I’ll have a say in his upbringing.  It’ll be easy.” John paused, “Well, as easy as bringing up a child can be.  He’ll be fine, even if he, as you put it, ‘turns out’ like you.”

Sherlock had visibly relaxed by then, leaning into John’s touch rather than standing there, shoulders stiff, “But to be like me he’ll be-“

“Smart, amazing, witty, funny, handsome, mischievous, curious, a great flirt, stylish, great at interior designing,” Sherlock rolled his eyes at the last one, but John just chuckled, “I see no downside, Sherlock.”

It was silent for a while as the both looked over at Hamish who was content, sleeping on his back with a stuffed toy bee by his feet, per Sherlock’s demand.

“But what if he turns out like you?”  Sherlock suddenly asked and John shoved him away with a fake, offended gasp, which turned into a giggle when he saw the smile on Sherlock’s face.

“Of course, there’s always a chance he’ll take after his mother.  Not too many annoying habits, you see.  That’s why I picked her.  Good family health over all, but, unfortunately, she did, I noticed, have the tendency to-“

“Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Yes.”

John smiled again, taking Sherlock’s hand and leading him back downstairs to bed.


End file.
